July 15, 2013
So, I realized that I forgot to tell
you guys about our funny little experience two or three weeks ago.
First, I have to explain the culture
here with the missionaries. They LOVE us. When I was told that my first area
would be Tarapoto, I was also told that it is the hardest area in the mission,
and that the people rely on the missionaries. They told me that we're the rock
of the church here. Well, I quickly found out the truth of this. The people
really need us because the church here is new and small and needs a lot of
help. Because of this, they just love us...and love us...and LOVE US. It's
beautiful really.
You know how there's almost always the
stereotypical testimony lines: I know the church is true, I know Joseph Smith
was a Prophet, I know Thomas S. Monson is a prophet, ect.? Here, almost every
testimony shared includes the line "I know that missionaries are angels
sent from God." It's really great, and really humbling.
Well, when we had our Branch Conference
a few weeks ago, the District President was talking about, as always, what they
can do to help their missionaries. He was chastising them saying "As a
Branch, we need to come together and start giving more thanks to God for the
four blessed missionaries that we have here. We cannot allow that these angels
starve. When we share food with them, we serve God. Why are we allowing them to
starve right now??"
Okay, I've really never been starving.
We always have appointments to eat lunch with members, and we eat breakfast and
dinner in the house. But, after this talk, the whole Branch is sure that we're
dying of starvation. Well, might I just add that another cultural thing here is
that one of the biggest insults in the world is to reject food when someone
offers you. So, I'm sure you can guess what I've been doing since this
talk....eating, and eating, and eating a little bit more. Sometimes I swear I'm
going to explode!
Our funniest experience ever was this
week. There is a food-type thing here and it's literal translation is
"Juice of purple corn, more solid." It is like a warm, super thick
Jello-type substance made from purple corn, with little pieces of corn and
potato in it. This sister offered us a cup and, as always, I choked it down
with a smile. Well, little did I know she was going to bring me out FIVE MORE!
It was crazy and hilarious. I thought I would explode!
Another brother had a bunch of leftover
cake from a birthday and he gave us each a HUGE slice. I ate it happily, and
when he saw how happy I was he went into the kitchen to get more. While he was
in the kitchen, my companion looked at me with a panic and told me she was sick
to her stomach and couldn't eat it. She started whispering "Eat Gringa,
eat, eat eat!" So, I somehow downed her slice in about two minutes. Then,
the Brother returned with my plate that had 3 more HUGE slices of this cake. It
was super rich and I thought I would puke...and then he brought us out two cups
each of hot chocolate milk. The second we left we just burst out laughing and I
thought I would puke, but I kept it down.
Well, aside from these funny experiences,
I've had a couple rough, eye-opening experiences this week as well. I really
thought that Saturday would do me in.
Hermana Jianae is a recent convert in
the Branch and she is just so amazing. Well, this week she was robbed of just
about everything. We showed up at her house to visit her and she was just
sobbing and sobbing. She had nothing to eat. It turned out one of our Investigators
was doing a fundraiser for her wedding this week and was selling chicken, so we
decided to bring out plates to Hermana Jianae for her and her son to eat.
Walking into her house almost killed me as they were getting ready to eat and I
saw what they were about to eat..some sort of mixture of things that I'm sure
she found in the yard. The look on her son's face seriously could have killed
me. He was sitting there with a sad, but brave look on his face because, even
at six years old, he knew that he had no other choice. He was so incredibly
grateful when we came in. It was so hard to look at him and think Wow, at six
years old, I was crying if my hamburger had onions on it.
Then, 5 minutes before one of our
investigators had her Baptismal interview, she decided to tell us that she lied
to us and that she's actually does have a boyfriend, she is living with him,
and he's a returned missionary and she was scared to tell us that because he
didn't want the church to find out what he was doing. I basically had a full on
panic attack. On the outside I was keeping my cool, sharing scriptures, and
helping her work through her options, but inside I was dying. Then, it turned
out in her interview that there was another little surprise in her interview
and she will have to wait until she can have an interview with our Mission
President to be Baptized.
Then, we went to visit one of our new
(and one of my favorites) investigators, who was super silent and finally said,
"Hermanas, I just found out that my cousin might be able to help me find
work in Lima, but I have to leave tomorrow." All we could do was pass his
name on to the missionaries there.
Then, we went to visit one of our less
active families that we've been working with that has really been showing
progress, and the kids answered the door. When we asked for their dad, they
informed us that he was "Extremely drunk." After three years sober,
something had set him off that day. We have no idea where this could go, he was
doing so well.
But, after everything that I've
learned, the most important thing is that, as I was told, I am part of the ROCK
of these people. When all these things are happening and all I want to do is
break down and cry, I have realized that I have to just pray for help to be
constant. I have to be the exact same person that I would be if everything was
absolutely perfect.
It is hard to have the people rely on
me so much, but it really is an honor and it is all worth it because I KNOW I
can make a difference. I know it. After all, that's why I'm here! Despite
everything, I am happy. I am constant.
LOVE YOU ALL!!!
Hermana Simonson
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